The internal thoughts created in equal parts by the anger & inspiration of punk rock has got me through some dark days and even longer nights.
One particular night, almost exactly four years ago, the film American Hardcore talked me down from the highest wire I’ve ever stood on.
The film was to become my lullaby to rock me to sleep, and my point of focus when I woke up; broken and in silent despair. Emotions I never want to experience again.
When I was at my lowest, punk rock kept me going. It gave me hope. It gave me reason. It really isn’t far fetched to say that I owe my life to punk rock.
Stiff little fingers are one of those bands who provided energy, inspiration and supported my recovery. They combine the energy of the Pistols with the intensity of the Ramones. And they give it substance- perhaps even more so than the Clash or RATM. They don’t waste your time. They don’t waste your life.
Live they bring that intensity with a force akin to a juggernaut. They force you to wake up and listen. They force you to consider your life and it’s purpose. To out-intense support act Ricky Warwick is almost impossible- but they manage to do it.
For those dark days and long nights; the Fingers will forever be my painkiller.